


APOTHEOSIS

by HemlockMimosa



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Episode Fix-it, Fix-It, References to Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008), The Author Regrets Everything, references star wars rebels, stormpilot is endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:13:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22342375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HemlockMimosa/pseuds/HemlockMimosa
Summary: I saw Star Wars: the Rise of Skywalker the first night it was in theaters and I was so disappointed that I abandoned an almost-completed manuscript in order to write this, the first fic I've ever written!! It's going to have everything that TROS dropped the ball on -- meaningful references to all nine films! stuff for Rose to do! stormpilot! an actual character arc for rey and ben! STORMPILOT. anyway, this is my first time posting here or really putting my fiction in any online space where someone can read it, so thank you for bearing with me and i hope you like it!
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Poe Dameron/Finn
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	APOTHEOSIS

We begin, as always, with a ship.

The Starhawk was once a mighty vessel, but as the camera pans over it, we see its many scars. One of its mighty engines gutters and sputters. Smoke pours from ripped hull panels. On the bridge, we hear a hooting alarm beating out the tempo of panic. 

Stern amidst the chaos, a Twi’lek admiral in uniform of the New Republic begins to fight a battle for calm. “Cycle the shields,” she says, “and begin charging the forward batteries. Don’t worry about the engines -- we aren’t running anywhere.”

The camera pulls back, and we see that the flagship is escorted by two other flagships, and that the planet they are guarding is Coruscant -- and then we see the First Order fleet. The Star Destroyers carpet the sky.

General Hux sneers at the defending force. “This is all that the Republic could muster to save the world-city? Pathetic.” He barely spends a moment thinking of strategy -- how could he, when the defenders are so few? “We’ll divide up by squads and --

“No.”

Behind Hux, Kylo Ren leans forward in a spartan throne. A thin steel circlet is the only ornamentation that denotes his power as the ruler of the First Order. “Concentrate all firepower on the flagship. Only the flagship. They’re the least afraid.”

“Fine.” mutters Hux, hopefully the level of Ren’s earshot. “All ships, concentrate fire on the flagship.”

The defending force gets off the first shot, a few blasts that glance harmlessly off the Star Destroyers’ shields. The response is a thicket of deadly green light. We have a brief glimpse of the Twi’lek admiral shouting her defiance before she’s wreathed in flame.

“Most excellent,” says Hux, drily. Through the window, we see the remaining defenders power up their engines for a hasty retreat. “They didn’t even get a chance to launch their fighters. I’ll send Cresh group after the survivors.”

“No.”

This time, Hux’s composure snaps. “They’ll get away!”

“And?” Kylo Ren is absolutely serene as Hux questions his judgement.

“And they’re our sworn enemies, Leader Ren.” If Hux’s intensity could be expressed in force, Ren’s robes would catch fire.

“General Hux,” says Ren. His speaks slowly, emphasizing every word, his tone almost pitying. “They are two ships. How could they possibly threaten us?”

Hux seethes. Although he says nothing, his expression communicates everything he needs to say -- Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader of the First Order, Master of the Knights of Ren, the Usurper, the Heir of Vader, has lost his thirst for blood.

Screen wipe Hux's frown away.

###

We see Rey instead, kneeling, serene. "Feel," she says. "Don't think. If you are one with the force, the force will protect you better than any clever plan you can think of."

Her serenity lapses a smidge, and we see a corner of her mouth smiling at Finn, in front of her, also kneeling, along with about a dozen other Resistance fighters inside of a dim and narrow room. They're a motley bunch, some aliens, some human, all with their eyes closed, all intently *thinking* at the space in front of them.

With little warning, the blaster in front of a skinny Rodian woman rises up and begins floating in the air. Her eyes snap open. "I'm doing it!" she shouts. "I'm -- I'm actually doing it!" All eyes turn instantly in her direction, except for Finn's eyes. He squints them closed and concentrates even more furiously.

Rey joins the Rodian, both their faces the very picture of surprise and delight. "Mathi, that's amazing!" She places a hand on Mathi's shoulder as the blaster begins to wobble. "Don't let your success get the better of you. Be happy, but still at peace. That's it."

The blaster steadies and rises even higher. Mathi moves her hand and it moves with her, twirls her hand and watches it revolve. She looks up, practically shining with joy. "I'm going to be a Jedi."

Her peace is disturbed by the screech of a klaxon, and the blaster clatters to the floor. The amplified voice of Rose Tico fills the room. "All hands, this is your captain speaking. Prepare to exit hyperspace in one minute. Repeat, repeat, prepare to exit hyperspace."

We cut to a shot of her face, tight with tension, and zoom out. We see that Rose is the center of attention amidst the bridge of a starship. The vessel has clearly seen better days -- the triangular windows are dusty and fogged wtih age, and the once-pristine floors are with decades of dirt. Rose barks orders, checks the hyperdrive, the weapons, the sublight engines, inquires after a leaky valve. Mostly, she paces. "I really want a chair," she mutters. "Why didn't they give us any chairs?"

"Fifteen seconds, commander." A Quarren woman answers a question that Rose didn't ask. Rose squares her shoulder by way of reply.

"Warm up the guns."

Inside the darkly gleaming bridge of a First Order starship, a white human male with a weak chin looks up at his captain. "Sir, there's a vessel coming out of hyperspace. It's broadcasting a valid Imperial signal, but it's very old." He furrows his brow. "Pre-Endor, I believe."

"Bah." The grizzled veteran at the helm of the ship looks as though he'd like to spit on the floor. "Another warlord come to pay respects, I take it. Deserters, the lot of them."

Outside of their windows, the Banshee emerges from hyperspace. The ship, a heavily modified star destroyer, is a riot of color. Checkerboard patterns adorn its flanks, and a swirl of gold and purple surrounds a bright red rebel starbird on the bow. A long time ago, someone with a lot of time and a lot of paint made the ship into a labor of love -- and the Resistance has reluctantly turned it back into a weapon of war.

The weak-chinned lieutenant looks back up at his captain and gulps. “I don’t think it’s a warlord.”

Back inside the Banshee, Rose gives the order, and the guns begin their symphony. Fire blooms on the First Order ship’s hull. “We caught them with their pants down,” she says. “Krayt squadron, hit them where it hurts.”

Like a brace of thrown knives, a mixed fighter group of X-wings and A-wings scream out of the Banshee’s hangar and towards the surprised capital ship. Blazing forward at top speed, the starfighters reach the First Order vessel and annihilate its hangar before its defensive screen of TIEs can fully launch. 

“They’re fully engaged,” says Rose. “Wizard squadron, you’re up next.”

Cut back to Rey, climbing into a narrow pilot’s seat, with Finn climbing into the gunner’s chair behind her. “I really wanted to be called Rancor squadron,” complains Finn.  
“That does sound cooler,” says Rey. Her grin turns into a ponder as she begins flipping the switches in front of her. “Since we’re about to drop into battle, is there anything else you want to tell me?”

“Let’s see.” Finn begins ticking things off on his fingers. “I wish I was better at the Force. I wish we were in the Falcon instead of this old piece of junk.” He raps disapprovingly on his control console. “I wish General Organa was still alive, and I wish that we had --”

“Hold on to something,” says Rey. She taps two final buttons above her and pulls a very conspicuous handle.

“POOOOOOOOOOOOEEEE” screams Finn, as the bottom drops under him. Rey’s dropship falls out of the Banshee’s hangar and ignites its engines, shrieking through space and into the atmosphere of the planet below.

###

Cut to the exterior of a massive ship. As it flies over us, we see that it’s larger than any Star Destroyer, but the size is the only thing that it has in common with a war machine. Instead, we see a series of interconnected spheres, each one a planet in miniature, teeming with life. We see see them flash over us -- a storm-tossed ocean, a baking desert, a steaming jungle. Each is connected by a gantry that’s overgrown with buildings jutting out into space at impossible angles. It’s an Ithorian Herdship!

The camera zooms into one of the buildings, which reveals a docking bay, and then the Millennium Falcon, flanked by a pair of landed X-wings. The Falcon’s ramp descends, and Poe Dameron steps out into the hangar, followed by Chewbacca, BB-8, and C-3PO. Members of Black Squadron step out of their cockpits and join them.

Two things here are notable. First, the hangar is completely deserted apart from the Resistance team -- and the lights are dim. Poe’s shoes leave footprints in thick dust, and Chewbacca makes an adorably high-pitched sneeze. “I see they’ve really rolled out the red carpet,” says Poe.

Second, we notice that Poe is not wearing his customary flight suit. Instead, he’s wearing an actual suit -- a handsome and decidedly civilian gaberwool ensemble that makes him look a little bit older. His formerly jet-black hair is lightly salted with gray.

Overhead, a single light flickers on with a clank. Then another. As lights flicker on, they form an illuminated pathway through the room. “That’s our cue,” mutters Poe. They follow, and after some time they are met by a delegation of stooped Ithorian elders, draped in white robes. Their leader, adorned in a crown of roots and flowers, greets Poe in the whistling language and humming language of Ithor. C-3PO translates in his stilted accent.

“Her ladyship Tha Zind, Master Gardener of Herdship Zero Four, bids you welcome to the great greenhouses of our people. Please, follow us, and do not stray from the path.”

The ithorian delegation turn on their heels without waiting for a reply. Poe shrugs and follows them, but he gives Chewbacca a nod and a shake of his head. The massive Wookiee hangs back from the main group and then trails away in a different direction with BB-8 at his heels.

Tha Zind keeps talking as she walks with Poe. “We apologize for the paucity of our welcome. If the First Order were to hear of your presence on our vessel, they would surely destroy us, as our ship is but lightly armed.”

Poe’s shoulders relax by the barest inch, and an easy grin returns to his face. “It’s alright, your ladyship. Frankly, since Leia passed, I’ve spent too long at fancy banquets, so it’s nice to have a little old-fashioned subterfuge.”

The Ithorian leader cocks her head at this, and opens another door, revealing a room packed with dignitaries and a massive banquet table laden with food of every description. Poe winces at his gaffe. “Did you translate all of that?”

“As you instructed, Master Poe,” says 3PO, brightly.

“Great,” says Poe, through his gritted teeth. Tha Zind takes her place at the end of the table and, in her fluting voice invites the participants down to sit.down. The door slides shut behind them, and the screen wipes away again to reveal the skies of Coruscant.

###

Kylo Ren’s immense black bat-winged shuttle plunges through the sky like a teardrop. As it descends, the normally pristine grid of the Coruscant skylanes -- barely disturbed even by an ongoing occupation -- ripple and distort. Speeders and small spacecraft flee in every direction.

The vessel alights on a landing pad, and as the camera pans to follow it, we see the monumental silhouette of the former Jedi Temple, and the former Imperial Place. Kylo Ren retraces the path of his ancestor, a hooded figure casting a long shadow before a column of stormtroopers as he moves with a measured and deadly tread.

Ren finds his way unexpectedly blocked by a velvet rope, which forms a queue that leads to an admissions counter. The gleaming protocol droid behind the desk starts to life. “Hello! And welcome to the Museum of Galactic Governance. From the heights of the High Republic to the depths of the Empire, you will find a trove of --”

A small detachment of stormtroopers breaks off and moves the ropes and barriers out of the Supreme Leader’s path. He stalks past the droid, which is still nattering about visiting hours and memberships, and ascends to the upper levels. Shedding his escort, he reaches the highest tier of the tallest spire -- what was once Emperor Palpatine’s throne room.

The space is preserved almost exactly as Palpatine must have left it on the day that he departed for the second Death Star. Faded Imperial banners flutter in an unseen breeze, and the massive stair leading to the dais is flanked with mannequins dressed in the armor of royal guards and elite stormtroopers.

Kylo brushes past yet another rope and climbs to the throne itself. He kneels before the chair where the emperor once sat, and with immense reverence, stretches out his hand.

A mocking voice rings out. “Sir! Please don’t touch the exhibits!”

Shocked out of his contemplation, Kylo Ren whirls around and ignites his lightsaber -- only to lower it, turn it off, and sigh wearily. “You again,” he says.

“Hi Ben,” says the luminous ghost of Luke Skywalker. “I said you’d see me around.”

“Well, you’ve seen me,” says Ren. “Let’s do this again sometime.” He turns back to his contemplation of the throne.

Skywalker walks right through Kylo Ren, then drops himself into the massive seat. He shifts his weight and kicks his heels. “Comfy,” he says.

“Have you come simply to taunt me in my moment of triumph? I’ll admit it’s annoying,” Kylo indicates the room with a sweep of his arm and turns his back on his old master once again. “But I’m literally in charge of the galaxy as of now. Annoying me is the only thing that’s left in your power to do.”

“Let the past die,” sneers Skywalker. “Kill it, if you have to. Isn’t that what you said? But here you are, literally inside of a museum, standing in front of Palpatine’s old chair.”

This finally gets under Ren’s skin. He wheels around and snarls. “Do you think I intend to rule from this hall of antiques? I plan to have it razed to its foundation. Here I will build the seat of a new galactic power.”

Luke rolls his eyes. “The First Order was built to destroy, not to rule. Peace? Inertia? They won’t be able to understand it. Your ‘new galactic power’ will start gnawing its own bones as soon as you turn from burning to building.”

Here, Ren seems to falter. His posture slackens and he puts down his hand. “The First Order spent thirty years in the darkness of the Unknown Regions,” he says, quietly. “They -- we -- believed only that the galaxy had been taken from them, one that was rightfully theirs. They trained and built for the sole purpose of winning it back. Now that we have what we dreamt of, we can begin to change.”

“The First Order was founded on brutality and hate, on victory at any cost.” The ghost of Luke Skywalker leans forward and rises, walking up to Kylo Ren until he’s well within his personal space. His expression is grave. “Do you think you can redeem that kind of viciousness? How will you rule without the same cruelty with which you have conquered?”

Kylo Ren is troubled, but his anger his stilled and his voice is quiet. “I don’t know how I’ll do it, but I have plenty of means at my disposal.” He allows himself a sardonic little smile. “After all, I’m the most powerful being in the galaxy.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” says Luke.

###

Cut to the exterior of our nameless planet. A pair of stormtroopers, anonymous in their sleek armor, They’re guarding the exterior of a modest First Order base, with the lights of a small village flickering in the distance.

A small and intense light streaks through the darkness and reflects off a trooper’s visor. He looks up and tilts his head in evident confusion. “Was that an asteroid?”

The other trooper shakes his head. “Nope, it’s a meteor. It’s an asteroid until it hits the atmosphere and then it turns into a meteoroid.”

“Pfft, more like a doesn’t-matter-oid.”

The other trooper looks offended, which is difficult to pull off under a few dozen pounds of armor. “It’s what it’s called! These things are important.”

“Fine” The first trooper points to another growing light in the sky. “Is that a meteoroid?”

“Uhhh, if it is, it’s heading right for us. Wait a second --”

A red bolt of energy slams into the ground before them, sending them flying. They keep coming, blasting the gate off its hinges, crumbling the walls, and transforming anti-air defenses into chunks of twisted metal. The mournful wail of an alert siren begins to permeate the base.

Rey brings the old gunship to a smooth landing inside the shattered courtyard, then pops the canopy and jumps out, completing a full somersault. She ignites her yellow-bladed lightsaber -- a fusion of her staff with Luke’s old hilt -- and begins running full-tilt towards the imposing tower behind the walls. 

Finn jogs behind her, catching his breath, and the platoon of Force-sensitive Resistance troopers fall into formation behind him, creating a loose wedge. “Stack up!” says Finn, waving squad members left and right. Rey reaches the door of the compound and stabs it with her blade, beginning a large circular slice.

Molten orange metal begins to drip and fizz on the ground as Rey cuts, but she’s taking a while. The troops assemble along both sides of the door with jittery silence. “Psst,” whispers Maathi, “Hey Finn.”

“Yeah?” Finn is a veteran of many battles, but he still never fails to display his nerves before a fight. He barely glances back at his comrade before turning away, lost to a vortex of worry.

“Finn, what are stormtroopers like? Are they all like you?”

“What? What’s that mean, are they all like me? This is a weird time to ask questions.” Finn makes to brush her off, but Maathi holds up her hand.

“Please,” she says. “Listen, if I -- if we -- are going to be Jedi, well, they didn’t fight bad people. And, you’re a good person, so if the stormtroopers on the other side of that wall are like you…”

Finn softens with a heavy sigh. We see sadness in his face. “A lot of the people underneath those helmets might be like me,” he says, “but the conditioning makes it so that we fight like droids once we’re in battle. No fear, no mercy, no surrender. I don’t know why I turned out different -- all I know is that I’ve got to make it so the First Order can’t turn more people into fanatics, you know?”

“I know,” says Maathi. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Finn clasps her shoulder, and we see in that instant that he’s forgotten to be nervous. “Keep your head down out there.”

“You too!”

In front of them, Rey has completed her circle, which glows like an emblem of ferocity in the fading dusk. She closes her eyes and stills herself until we see that she is calm. Then she stretches out her hand.

The massive disk of metal that she’s cut free of the door drifts slowly out in front of her. As Rey steps out behind it, hell breaks loose. Armed stormtroopers begin firing from the walls, and a central mounted turret begins unleashing fearsome blasts. The young Jedi feels none of this. She uses the disk as a shield while deflecting blasts from around her flanks with her yellow blade. Stormtroopers begin to fall, screaming and smoking, as reflected plasma finds its targets.

“Go, go, go!” Finn is the first out of the door behind Rey, and the last to find cover.

###

When we cut back to Poe, it’s clear that some time has passed. Server droids are taking away gleaming plates, and Tha Zind finally clears her throat again. 

“Tell us, Poe Dameron, how many systems currently align with the Resistance?” she says. Threepio translates simultaneously, and his clipped tones make an eerie contrast to the Ithorian’s whistles and hums.

“Over fifty,” says Poe, “Unless a few more joined while we were waiting for dessert.”

The assembled dignitaries get a good chuckle out of this, but Zind presses on.

“And how many ships?”

Poe shakes his head. “That’s classified.”

“Too few then,” says Zind. 

“Well, that’s why I’m here,” says Poe. He shifts uncomfortably and adjusts the collar around his neck. “We need ships, you need protection from the First Order. Seems simple enough to me.”

“This is a ship of peace,” says Zind, through 3PO’s voice.

“And we don’t want to change that,” says Poe. “What we want -- what we’re asking for -- is the use of your shipyard near Takobo to build and repair our fleet.”

“And in exchange for this, you would offer us protection from the First Order. But if we survived the Empire, why would the First Order give us anything to fear?” 

There’s complete silence in the room as Poe prepares his answer. Finally, he says, “Ma’am, the danger of the First Order isn’t that they’re the Empire come again. It’s that they’re zealots who will never admit that the Empire failed. They see the freedom of your people as an insult to their authority. We’ve even received reports that the First Order wishes to seize your vessel and use it to help rebuild the flagship they lost at Crait.”

There’s a pronounced murmur, and a few gasps from the assembled crowd.

“This is very troubling information,” says Tha Zind. “I would very much like to know how you’ve obtained it.”

Poe grins, finally allowed to unleash his master stroke. “Milady, we have intercepted communications from a First Order spy and collaborator embedded aboard this ship. If you’ll forgive me for acting out of turn, we have a unit in place ready to apprehend him at this very moment. Just give us the order.”

Tha Zind exhales and then speaks in Basic for the first time. “Do it.”

Cut to BB-8. He has his scomp link out, and is busy fiddling with a computer interface. The door next to him hisses open, and he rolls in with a friendly beep. The camera stays outside, but from the room we hear a slurring voice say, “Well, hello little guy. I didn’t think I’d see you again! Whaddya doing here?”

Chewbacca’s big furry feet pass by at the camera’s level, followed by a short parade of boots. We hear, “hey, I don’t think I know you,” followed by a Wookiee roar, a short human scream, and the distinctive whir of a stun bolt. 

Kaydel Ko Connix, Snap Wexley, and other members of Black Squadron file out of what we now see is a luxuriously appointed hotel bedroom. Following them is Chewie, who holds the groaning form of DJ by the scruff of his neck.

###

High above Coruscant, a new ship pops into existence. The Night Buzzard is a grim barge, painted dusty black, constantly belching smoke, and studded with guns. As it makes for the planet, we cut back to Hux’s command ship.

“I want you to halt that vessel,” he says, looming above a cowed ensign.

“Sir, that ship belongs to Leader Ren’s personal bodyguard,” says the ensign. “Are you sure you --”

Hux’s face contorts in fury. “Are you deaf? Halt that ship and bring them aboard, that’s an order.”

“Right away sir.”

Below them, the Night Buzzard smoothly alters its course and begins its approach. As it glides into the star destroyer’s hangar, Hux is the only one waiting there to meet it. The ramp hisses down and the hatch opens, but no one ventures out. The invitation is clear. 

Hux hesitates, and then walks in. The ship is not pleasant to look at on the inside. It’s a maze of small corridors and dim lighting, and none of the bulkheads have their original panels on them. A nest of wiring snags Hux’s overcoat and tears it along the shoulder. He grimaces, but presses onwards.  
“Is anyone there?” he calls out. “Please, I don’t mean to disturb you.”

A woman’s harsh voice calls back. “You disturb us nonetheless.”

Hux emerges into a wide central gathering place. The six Knights of Ren loom out of the shadows, and one of them -- Vicrul -- is revealed as their speaker. “You made a mistake coming here, general.”

“I --” Hux tries to explain himself, but Vicurl forces him to his knees with a single gesture.

“We have a very important meeting to attend to, and you will not keep us from it. You have thirty seconds to persuade us not to kill you.”

Hux turns white. “Kylo Ren is not fit to lead the First Order,” he stammers.

“We care nothing for the First Order,” says Vicrul. “As long as Kylo Ren is fit to lead us, we will follow him. Try again.”

“Is he still fit to lead you? You don’t know what I’ve seen.” Hux strains his hands against the grated floor, trying to stand up. Every muscle in his body strains with panic.”He could have destroyed the last remnants of the Republic fleet, but he let them go. He threatens to raze the palace of Emperor Palpatine, and he killed Leader Snoke. He no longers communes with the helmet of his grandfather. If there’s a religious of darkness that you hold dear, Kylo Ren has abandoned it!”

At this, Hux is suddenly released. He stumbles to his feet and covers his face with his forearms.

“Vote,” says Vicrul. She and two other knight put their hands up -- the other two keep their hands down.

“What just happened?” Hux is bewildered. 

Vicrul emits a gale of terrible laughter, echoed by the other five knights. “We have just elected not to kill you. In fact, you’re now you’re our guest of honor. Come with us! You’ll like this meeting, I promise.” She gestures to another member of the black-clad ensemble. “Kuruk, start the ship.”

Cut back to the exterior of the command ship. The Night Buzzard smoothly departs the hangar and then breaks atmo, its engines trailing thick black clouds. Inside, Hux sits strapped miserably into one of the Buzzard’s jump seats, hanging on for dear life. “Don’t look so nervous,” says Vicrul. “We hardly ever crash.” She says this as though crashing might be fun every once in awhile.

Outside, we see the ship passing near the former Jedi Temple, and we get a quick reverse shot, no more than a flicker, or the ship descending from within the temple itself as seen through the vast window of Palpatine’s throne room. 

The ship has another destination, however. It descends beneath a vast mesa of skyscrapers, leaving the sunlight behind it. It dives through streets full of seedy cantinas lit by neon, and cloaked travelers doing business by streetlight. Soon even these feeble lamps are left behind, as the ship weaves through a dizzying series of tight turns through long-abandoned girders and alleyways. At last,.the Buzzard descends into a stygian undercity, a vast and empty cavern where rusted ruins form the pillars of the gleaming metropolis above.

The Night Buzzard lands near a humble stone ziggurat at the center of the abyss, and the Knights of Ren file out, with Hux bringing up the rear. He looks around nervously at the vast expanse of shadow surrounding them. “Where are we?” he asks.

“We,” says Vicrul, “are standing on what used to be the surface of the planet itself. Directly below the old Jedi Temple, if you can believe it.”

“Incredible,” says Hux. He does not appear elated.

The Knights of Ren ascend to the top of the ziggurat and take their places around the top, a massive black stone slab inlaid with the slashed red diamond of the Sith order. Vikrul lays a gloved hand upon the emblem and chants harsh syllables in an alien tongue.

Suddenly, a vast column of red lighting appears, furling and crackling around the ceiling of the cavern and striking the stone centerpiece where Vikrul laid her hand. Hux throws his hands over his face and cries out in alarm.

When he lowers his arms, a new figure stands on the dais.

###

Back at the First Order base, Rey pulls back her hand and force-pushes the heavy metal door into the mounted turret, crushing it instantly. The Resistance fighters gain ground around the perimeter. There are no dazzling displays of martial prowess here, but if you look closely you can see a subtle fluidity to their movements that mere infantry might lack. One ducks in the instant before a blaster bolt strikes, and another fires three times in a row without looking, striking three troopers as they rise. Yet another on grapples with a trooper at close range, force-pulling their blaster out of their hands from a few inches away before striking them in the helmet with it.

Whatever the rhythm of battle is, Finn isn’t feeling it. He finds himself pinned down by one of the last First Order fireteams, a heavy gunner with two supporting riflement. They lay down a withering field of fire, sending Finn flinching back under cover every time he tries to move.

Rey finally notices Finn’s plight. She yells to get his attention and then strides forward, throwing a heavy chunk of metal at the First Order position. As they refocus their fire on the Jedi threat, Finn seizes the moment to strike. He charges the First Order position with a wild yell, tackling the heavy gunner before he can refocus his fire. They both go tumbling to the ground -- but Finn is the only one who keeps control of his blaster, and the only one who gets up.

The last pair of troopers are quickly overwhelmed. One falls, riddled by plasma, but the other acts strangely, throwing away their blaster and ducking behind a pair of crates. Finn watches, perplexed, as the other Resistance troopers advance and fire. As they slowly advance, Finn hears a faint clear voice. “Please,” it says. “I give up. I don’t want to fight anymore. I give up.”

With a start, Finn realizes that the voice he’s hearing is the voice of the cowering stormtrooper. “Hey, stop,” he says -- but he can’t make his voice heard above the noise of battle. “Stop, she’s trying to give up.” He grabs one of his comrades by the arm and tries to get their attention, but they just look at him strangely. “Stop,” he pleads. “STOP.”

At this, all movement in the room freezes. We see Finn’s eyes widen as he realizes that his fellow Resistance soldiers haven’t just frozen -- their blaster shots have frozen as well. The remaining stormtrooper stands up carefully, hands first, eyeing the glowing lines of energy with evident terror. She removes her helmet with shaking hands, revealing dark skin and a cloud of black hair.

“My designation is TZ-1719,” she says, “and I am formally surrendering to the Resistance. Please --” she indicates the array of threats pointed at her “-- can someone sort of sweep these away?”

###

Back on Coruscant, Hux drops to his knees. Emperor Palpatine is a figure out of legend, a titan who stood astride the galaxy. “My lord,” he cries. “Can this possibly be real?” His face is twisted with a religious awe.

“Search your feelings, general.” The deep and rasping voice of Emperor Palpatine, not quite gone, not quite dead, rings forth for the first time in thirty years. “Have you any doubt?”

From his knees, Hux prostrates himself, pressing his forehead against the cold stone floor. His admission is almost a sob. “No.”

The camera pans up from Hux’s flattened form to reveal the form of Palpatine himself. He is a spectral shadow, edged in red light. His face flickers constantly, at one moment the shape of a kindly old man, next a twisted wraith, last a decaying skull. 

“General Hux,” says Palpatine. “Rise.” The dark lord makes a simple gesture, and his newest servant is lifted gently back onto his feet. “I have great need of you,” he whispers. His visage shifts from his younger self back into the form of Darth Sidious. “Tell me, where is Snoke?”

“Uh.” Hux swallows hard. “Snoke is dead, my lord.”

With a crash, the form of Palpatine disappears, replaced by an enormous arc of red lightning that unfurls all the way to the top of the cavern. We get the sense that the lightning itself -- and not the image of the man -- is Palpatine’s true form.

Palpatine regains his shape after a few seconds of noise and fury, but Hux’s terrified shriek lasts a second longer. He hurriedly regains his composure, but you can just tell that the Knights of Ren are rolling their eyes beneath their helmets.

“I am aware of this,” says Palpatine. His calmness belies the terrible fury of a moment ago. “Dead Snoke may be, but the knowledge I seek remains within him nonetheless. Where does he lie?”

“We buried him where we found him.” says Hux. “On Dromund Kaas, at the First Temple.”

“Then it is there we shall go,” says Palpatine. He gestures to the Knights of Ren, and they file back to their black ship. The fallen emperor is left alone with the general.

“You wish to ask me something,” says the emperor, flickering briefly to the form he took when he was a senator.

Hux shivers. With the knights gone, the vast chamber seems smaller. The darkness is close to him, close enough to smother him. When he finally speaks, his voice echoes plaintively off the walls. “What of the usurper, Kylo Ren?”

“Ah yes,” says the Emperor. “We will need to deal with him, but I will need your help. You will need to be very brave, and you will need to endure a little pain. Will you serve me as your father once did?”

Galaxies have time to form and burn in the long moments of Hux’s hesitation. “Yes.”

“Good,” croons Palpatine, assuming once again the form of Darth Sidious. “GOOOOOOOD. A willing vessel!” He stretches out his hand and a red bolt of lightning shoots into Hux’s forehead. The general screams in agony as energy surrounds his body like a cage, his cries reaching an unthinkable pitch before suddenly cutting off. The spectre of Palpatine vanishes, but when Hux opens his eyes, his irises are yellow and threaded with red veins.

“Unlimited power,” he whispers.

END CHAPTER ONE


End file.
